


show me

by tenderybitch (FictitiousFanatisch)



Series: ten things i hate about you [2]
Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Banter, Barebacking, Body Worship, Boys Kissing, Canon Related, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten Being an Asshole, Friends With Benefits, Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Neck Kissing, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Sad times, Secret Crush, hendery being a libra, hendery is in love and that shit hurted, multilingual kings, ok im done, power bottom ten, ten definitely being a pisces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictitiousFanatisch/pseuds/tenderybitch
Summary: Right then, Kunhang realizes if there’s any reason for him to be scared, it’s because Ten has so much power over him and he doesn’t even know it.(Hendery fucks Ten for the first time)russian trans ☽ ⁺ . ⋆
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery
Series: ten things i hate about you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604263
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	show me

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING for emotional manipulation, toxic relationships and unhealthy obsessions ahead.

_**June** **2019** _

After a long day of filming Chinese television promotion, Kunhang is mentally and physically exhausted. It's the kind of tired he can feel from the back of his neck to the soles of his feet, that aches in his bones and stings when he closes his eyes. Dinner is in Kun's room, and Ten and Xuxi are going back and forth in Korean about something he's not paying enough attention to. Yangyang is being entirely too loud, but Dejun seems to share his energy, arms folded across his chest, silently observing the chaos. Kunhang can feel the beginnings of a headache, so he rests his head against Ten's shoulder, curling into his warm side.

Ten was too focused on his conversation to eat, so he's way behind everyone else. Which is honestly so annoying, because Kunhang has already finished his meal and beyond ready to call it a night. He whines against the older, hoping it will urge him to hurry up. He's obviously not going to head over to their room without him, no matter how tired he is. He doesn't even have his room key.

They're sitting on the floor, pretty much in view of everyone, but Ten still manages to be subtle when he rests his free hand on the top of his thigh. He looks up at the older, but of course he is watching Sicheng, because he's talking, and that's a rare occurrence.

It's senseless, really, how much the contact soothes him. Kunhang has no explanation for it. His skin tingles as Ten drags his warm palm back before smoothing up towards his knee. He can't tell if the touch is intended to be comforting or suggestive—or both. Kunhang wishes he was better at reading him.

The feeling completely dissolves when Ten pulls his hand away to grab a napkin. Kunhang misses him immediately, feels cold and empty without his touch. He doesn't think he'll ever understand the effect this man has on him, how something so simple has total control over his thoughts, his emotions.

The ongoing discussion serves as a suitable distraction for a few minutes. But soon he gets bored and grabs his phone. Another few minutes stretch by and Kunhang is beyond ready to leave, so he tugs at the hem of Ten's t shirt, a soft whine building in his throat.

"What?" the older turns to him this time, resting his hand on the nape of his neck.

Ten looks unbearably good right now, his dark hair messy and falling into his eyes, round glasses low on the bridge of his nose. Kunhang really, _really_ wants to grip the collar of his shirt, tug him close and kiss him on the mouth, members be damned, but that would be even more senseless than the way this man makes him feel.

"You eat so slow," Kunhang complains.

Ten parts his lips in offense, and Kunhang can see the partially chewed rice and chicken on the flat of his tongue. He winces, because it's gross, using his index finger to lift Ten's chin and close his mouth.

"Don't rush me," he replies, turning back to his meal. Thank fuck he's barely got three bites left.

"I'm not. I'm just stating a fact," Kunhang hums. It's true, anyway. But Ten knows him too well, including that he's been eager to leave since he finished his own meal half an hour ago.

The older doesn't look convinced. A glint of mischief passes over his features then; Ten grips the last bite of food between his chopsticks and raises it toward his mouth at an agonizing pace. He holds Kunhang's gaze as his hand pauses in mid air, and the younger would seriously hit him if the others weren't around.

"How juvenile for someone so old," Kunhang tuts, shaking his head in disbelief. Ten scoffs.

"I'm literally not old,"

"You're almost thirty," he jokes, breaking out into laughter before even finishing the statement. It's far from the truth, but the concept of Ten being that old at any point in time is so absurd it's funny.

"Well, if I'm almost thirty, that means you're almost twenty-seven. Which is like, basically thirty because it rounds up to it,"

"What matters is that you're closer to thirty than I am," Kunhang reasons.

"Eyyy, what's wrong with being thirty? You ageist," Ten shoots back.

The younger rolls his eyes, because obviously nothing is wrong with being thirty. But he can't give up that easily.

"For you? Probably a lot of things, since you eat like a sloth at twenty-three," he quips.

Ten looks absolutely scandalized, and Kunhang knows that if the other members weren't here he would surely let him have it. But he somehow contains his fury.

He takes his last bite then, finishes his water and playfully shoves Kunhang away so he can stand and dispose of his trash. The others have moved on to another equally irrelevant topic, but Ten doesn't really care and interrupts their rambling to announce that he's leaving. He curls his fingers around Kunhang's thin wrist, tugging the younger boy until he stands. They say their goodnights and Kunhang waves at Dejun. The older boy averts his eyes, sharp features contorting into a dark, disturbed expression. Kunhang tries not to dwell on it.

Ten leads him out into the hallway, the cool hotel air refreshing after being crammed in one room with five other hot headed boys for two hours. Their room is a short walk — just across the hall and three doors down, but it feels like an eternity to Kunhang. Especially since Ten isn't talking, most likely still offended by his earlier statements.

Ten rifles through his wallet for his room key, then slides it into the slot. It beeps, then he turns the knob and pushes the door open. Kunhang follows Ten into the room, dragging the door shut behind him.

"You're terrible," the older finally speaks, once the door is closed. Kunhang frowns.

"What ever do you mean?" he wonders, as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs onto his bed, collapsing face first in the crisp, white hotel sheets. He breathes in the scent of lemon and lilac.

"I mean, I'm always _so_ good and sweet to you, but you're just ... bad to me," Ten huffs, hardly able to keep a straight face as he places his phone and wallet on the nightstand.

"Oh really?" Kunhang laughs, turning onto his side to watch him.

"Yeah. You can be so mean," Ten teases, crouching down, pulling his luggage open, and digging through it in search of something, it seems.

"I learned from the best," he proudly declares, because Ten is such a hypocrite. He would probably be baffled by words taken straight from his own mouth.

Ten shoots him a glare, but Kunhang's smile never wavers. Since this thing started between them, he's so much more comfortable around the older man. He's seen most of Ten's moods and antics already and knows his ruthless demeanor is only for show.

Ten doesn't bare his soul to just anyone. His attention is precious, and he would much rather tease the people he likes. Kunhang wasn't used to it at first, but he took the time to learn how to communicate with the older. In return, Ten gives him so much more attention than the others. Which works out well for Kunhang, since he practically feeds on that attention.

"I have another theory," he starts, propping his head up with his hand. Ten slides the glasses off of his nose, not looking all that interested in whatever he wants to say.

"I'm so _'bad'_ because you're not good enough for me," he continues.

The older man stops dead in his tracks and frowns, totally taken aback. It only takes Kunhang a second to realize what he's said.

"Fuck—I mean, you're not good enough _to_ me," he laughs, slapping his forehead. English is difficult.

"I'm so glad you slapped yourself. I was just about to do it for you," Ten laughs too.

" _To_ me, not _for_ me," Kunhang repeats as he slides across the mattress, moving to sit on the edge.

If anything, he's lucky he even gets to be in the same company as Ten, let alone promote with him in the same group and unit, let alone get to spend enough time with him to be his friend. And really, Ten deserves someone a billion times smarter and funnier and more attractive than him. Which is probably exactly why Ten isn't dating him.

"Okay but like, what does that even mean?" Ten asks, carding a small hand through his wispy hair. And he looks so soft and sweet in that moment, like a pretty portrait in a museum or a lovely still in a movie and Kunhang nearly forgets what they're even talking about.

"Good or bad—I'm me and you're you. What more could you possibly want?"

"First of all, I want you to come here," Kunhang admits, suddenly overwhelmed by how much he wants the man in his arms.

Ten looks at him, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smirk. He wanders over where the younger is sitting on the edge of the bed. Then Ten is standing right in front of him, those sweet brown eyes gazing into his and Kunhang feels nervous, although he's not sure why.

He reaches out, fitting his hands over Ten's hips. He smooths them around to the small of his back, dragging the older even closer so he stands between his thighs.

"Now what," Ten wonders, moving his thumb behind his ear. Kunhang hugs the older's waist, resting his head against his sternum.

"Hm?" Kunhang hums, closing his eyes. Ten is so warm here, his scent strong. If he could, he would drown in this man, absorb everything he is into himself and then sink even deeper.

"What do you want? You say I'm not good to you, so what am I lacking?" he elaborates, the questions grueling, but his voice calm. Kunhang's not sure when this conversation became so serious.

"It's not that you're ... lacking," Kunhang frowns, sitting back a bit to look up at Ten. He keeps his hands on his waist, hoping that will stop the older from ever moving away.

"It's like... I don't know," he falters, because he didn't really expect to be vulnerable tonight. And he's not good at putting his tangled mess of thoughts and feelings into words. Clearly.

Ten slides his fingers in Kunhang's hair, pushing it out of his face.

"I guess... if you're good to me, I'm good to you and vice versa. But if I'm bad, like you say, then it's probably because I want your attention? Or that I'm not getting enough of it,"

"Probably?" Ten smiles, fondly. "You don't know?"

"I do know," he says, shy.

It's embarrassing to admit how much he relies on Ten's validation. Every day, he needs the older man to laugh at his jokes, to tell him he looks good (or at least passable), and to cheer him on no matter what he's doing. Without it, he second guesses himself. He's not sure when he began to need Ten so much.

Kunhang doesn't remember life without Ten. Now that their paths crossed here, and they are together in this moment, he's only just now starting to live his life as it was meant to be lived.

Ten doesn't intimidate him from a social standpoint, as an older colleague or even an established artist. Right then, Kunhang realizes if there's any reason for him to be scared, it's because Ten has so much power over him and he doesn't even know it.

"So you want attention. Cute," the older hums, cupping Kunhang's face, smoothing his thumb along his cheekbone.

The younger is torn between feeling proud of the compliment and wanting to hide from embarrassment. Ten looks at him like he's a child sometimes, like he's weak and foolish and has no idea what he's gotten himself into.

"Don't," Kunhang turns his head, as if it will do anything to deter the elder's touch.

"You're so cute when you try to like, express yourself," Ten coos, and Kunhang wonders if he realizes how patronizing he can be.

"Please, stop," Kunhang winces, honestly regretting saying anything at all.

"Such a baby," the older smiles so wide it looks painful, pinching his cheek between his first two fingers.

Kunhang groans, disgusted by the baby talk. He tries his best to escape his hold, but Ten is much stronger than him. He backs Kunhang up until he has no choice but to slide backwards onto the mattress.

Before he can scramble in the other direction, Ten lunges forward, grabs the collar of his shirt and tackles him against the sheets. He definitely isn't expecting the sudden aggression, and Ten uses the advantage to climb on top of him completely. Kunhang fights back, but soon realizes it's a lost cause; he can't find any leverage to help pull himself out from under the older.

Frustrated, he throws a mini tantrum, flailing his arms and legs exaggeratedly. Ten just laughs as he struggles, eventually curling his fingers around his wrists and pressing them down into the mattress above his head to still him. They stay like that for a long minute, breathing in each other's amusement, a renewed energy thrumming in their veins.

The younger swallows hard, heart rate picking up when he realizes the position he's in. Although he doesn't mind the warm weight of Ten above him, he can't help the twinge of anticipation he feels with those sweet eyes boring into his soul, strong hands pinning him down, shadow looming over him like a nightmare.

Ten smiles softly, pulling his thumb from the corner of Kunhang's jaw to the center of his chin. He looks up at Ten, can almost see every one of those terrible thoughts passing over his features.

Part of Kunhang really wants to keep fighting, wants a victory, no matter how small and insignificant it may be. He briefly considers writhing and complaining until Ten gets irritated and stands up, leaving him on his side of the room, alone. That's certainly how this would've gone two months ago.

He _knows_ he should not succumb to this temptation again– he and Ten. They're friends, coworkers, idols, for fuck's sake. If anyone found out, his life would be over before it's begun. Nevermind the sweet poison Ten injects into him every day—when he teaches him dance moves, shows him new music, or pulls him aside before a performance just to whisper against the shell of his ear that he looks _handsome_. Never mind the warmth that simmers in his chest when the older looks at him like he's the only boy in the world. There are so many reasons they are wrong for each other, so many red flags and so many ways Kunhang foresees his inevitable end.

But Ten doesn't look in the slightest dissuaded. So Kunhang braces himself as the older dips down and pushes his mouth against his.

Ten fits one hand over Kunhang's neck, using his bottom lip to open his mouth wider. As in most things, he's content to let the older lead. He focuses on the sensation: Ten's soft lips and the hot, wet caress of his tongue. He inhales through his nose, hands closing into fists on either side of his head.

Ten kisses him the way he's always wanted to be kissed, with this contextual intimacy, like their souls have known each other for centuries. He's slow to start, using gentle hands to hold and guide him while his lips curl lazily against his. He's so in tune with his partner's body, and by now knows just what to do to make the younger tense and squirm. Ten slides his tongue along the roof of Kunhang's mouth. It tickles, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Ten tilts his head to the right, fingernails pressing hard into his jaw as he sucks softly on his bottom lip. It's the kind of kiss that Kunhang thinks _has to mean something_ , that makes him blush from his cheeks to his chest. It makes him feel warm and safe, like humid nights in the countryside, deep conversations until dawn, or even half assed Chinese lessons.

An infectious smile spreads across Ten's face as he pulls back, bumping their noses. Kunhang smiles too, feeling like he might just explode with emotion. It hurts, but at the same time feels _so_ _good_ , because it's Ten and he can't help but chase him when he moves away.

Kunhang whines, eyebrows pushing into a frown.

"You're just a baby," he sighs, moving to sit on Kunhang's stomach. He looks so unbothered by their current position, and apparently more than willing to revive their conversation.

Ten searches his gaze—his desperate, willing, open gaze, and for a second, his smile withers.

"What do you know?"

Kunhang closes his eyes, because he really can't stand the sound of Ten's voice, sweet like honey, breathy on the edges, when it's soft and gentle or even sharp and teasing. It makes him feel so many things at once. It's irrational, to be this affected by someone.

"I know a lot actually," he declares, "I'm way smarter than I look,"

Ten scoffs, still as condescending as ever.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah–," Kunhang starts, his resolve weakening when the older man smooths his gentle hands down his torso over his shirt.

His breath catches in his throat when Ten closes in on him again, gripping his jaw, angling his head up and kissing him, hard. The sudden enthusiasm sends his thoughts spiraling. Kunhang can no longer resist the need to touch him, so he drags his palms from his thighs to his hips, looping his arms around his waist. Ten licks deep into his mouth, his breaths hardening. Kunhang sucks gently on his tongue, familiar warmth fluttering in his stomach.

"Show me," Ten murmurs against him, challenging, "Show me what you know,"

Kunhang nods, running his hands along Ten's body over his clothes, feeling out the smooth dips and curves underneath. He leads the kiss this time, slipping one hand up under his shirt to caress the arch of his spine, climbing each delicate knob to trace across his shoulder blades.

Kunhang moves to kiss his jaw, then down the smooth length of his neck. Ten curls his fingers around the loose fabric of his shirt, tightening his grip when his lips close around his pulse point. He sucks on the spot until he knows it feels good. He drags his nails down the slope of Ten's back, tickling over his sensitive sides until a sweet, embarrassing sound escapes him.

Ten hides his hands under the hem of Kunhang's shirt, resting them on the flat of his stomach as the younger runs the tip of his tongue behind his ear. In retaliation, the older circles his index finger around his left nipple, catching his nail on it until it hardens beneath the fabric. Kunhang can't help but mewl, quickly losing himself to the suggestion of arousal.

He grasps the hem of Ten's shirt, gently tugging the fabric until the older takes the hint and sits back to pull it over head. It lands somewhere on the floor behind them and Kunhang resumes his previous engagement- sucking hot, biting kisses down Ten's throat, hands now moving to appreciate his collarbones, his shoulders. He thinks he could spend hours worshipping Ten's body.

Kunhang smooths his hand down Ten's spine, slipping it beneath the waistband of his underwear. His hands find Ten's hips beneath his pants as the older nips at the curve of his jaw. He can't focus on anything but the feeling as Ten's lips slowly ascend to meet his own once more.

"Take this off, the fuck," Ten grumbles against his bottom lip, fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt.

Kunhang huffs at the command, although he's more than happy to oblige. He leans up just a fraction to lift his shirt above his head and Ten snatches it immediately, flinging it across the room.

"Sheesh. Do you have to be so aggressive all the time?" he wonders, swallowing thickly as the older starts a slow grind against him.

"Oh, so now I'm aggressive too?" Ten rubs his warm hands up Kunhang's newly exposed chest, cupping the base of his throat.

"You are," Kunhang gripes, pushing his hand further down Ten's pants and grabbing a handful of his ass. Ten tugs on his bottom lip, making him whine.

"I'm not complaining," he quickly adds.

"Of course not– because you like it," Ten mutters, his eyes fluttering as he rolls his hips down against his.

 _I love it_ , Kunhang can't help but think. _I love everything about you._

Kunhang tries to focus on the task at hand– nudging his hips up into Ten's downward motions, but he's extremely distracted by the way the older man _looks_. Ten licks his lips once, using one hand to push his dark hair out of his eyes. A shuddery breath hits his lower lip as his head tilts back just a bit.

His hips push down as Kunhang arches up and their dicks rub together perfectly through their clothes. It's not a very poetic scene, but it sure feels like it when the sensation washes over Ten's face. He reaches out and cups Ten's cheek, running his thumb over his cupid's bow. Ten holds his gaze as he takes the digit between his lips.

Suddenly Kunhang cannot shake the image of Ten sitting on him like he is now, working himself back onto his length, face flushed with arousal, nerves tightly wound in seek of release.

"I want to be inside you. Please, will you let me?" he blurts out, completely aware of how desperate he sounds.

Ten bites his bottom lip, contemplating,

"God, I want you to," he says, earnest.

Kunhang shudders.

"Fuck, it's been awhile... but I want it. I want to feel you, Baby,"

Kunhang's stomach flips at that. He's never topped Ten before, always content to fill the receiving role. Ten is obviously a switch, but it's just easier to take his verbal abuse, rigid commands and sexual torture from the bottom. He knows topping won't affect the hold Ten has on him, nor his unwavering desire to please the older.

Ten grips him through his shorts, using his thumb and index finger to trace the outline of his erection. Kunhang watches him, the delicate twist of his wrist, the twinge of amusement in the corner of his mouth.

"Ten-ah," he breathes, overwhelmed by his gaze. The older kisses the sound right out of his mouth, flicking his tongue out against his teeth.

He's growing more and more impatient by the minute, knows he'll soon lose himself in a sea of need. He tugs on Ten's pants until he scoots back, standing to strip out of them altogether.

While he's up, Kunhang shakily suggests he go grab the lube, to which the older huffs, but turns toward the luggage anyway, grumbling all the way. Kunhang kicks off his shorts and boxers while he's gone, scooting up the bed to grab a pillow and situating it underneath his neck.

He doesn't think he'll ever understand the hold Ten has on him, how he can turn him on in a matter of minutes and completely shatter his composure with just a few touches. The thought of Ten right now, of everything he is, although he's only a few paces away, sends another warm wave of arousal through his body. It's exciting and intoxicating to be with his idol like this, to have all of his sickening fantasies realized.

One hand easily travels down his torso, fingers looping around his girth, resting hard and heavy against his hip. He drags his palm over the head a few times, closely watching Ten as he rummages through the carryon. His sinewy muscles ripple beneath his skin when he stands, and Kunhang's gaze traces the line of his back, the perfect swell of his ass and thighs —

"You see what I mean? Just _bad_ ," Ten says, striding back across the room and slapping his hand away. He's hardly concerned with the harsh contact his knuckles have just made with his dick.

" _Fuck_ ," Kunhang whimpers, curling forward in agony, cupping his wounded erection.

"You're so impatient," the older chides, climbing back onto the bed. Ten doesn't bother apologizing, instead shoves Kunhang's shoulder so hard he flops back against the mattress with a thud. Ten then hoists himself back up onto the younger, straddling his waist.

The pain takes a moment to subside, but Ten's naked body is the sweetest distraction. If Kunhang wasn't already, he's soon hypnotized by his silhouette, grainy and glowing in the dim light emitted by the lamp in the furthest corner of the room. The muscles on his stomach are not incredibly defined, just enough to show that he does in fact work out. But there's still a doughiness about his hips that makes Kunhang's mouth water. His waist is thin, thighs soft, yet toned, skin honey and gold by the summer sun. Then there's the tender dip of his sides, his dusky nipples, the satisfying line of his neck, and the sheen cut of his jaw— he's salivating at the sight.

He follows the impulse, gripping the back of Ten's neck and dragging him down against him, crushing their lips together. Ten clearly isn't expecting the force and sways once, laughing gently into his mouth.

Ten is just so beautiful, and Kunhang feels so inadequate. He feels unworthy to kiss him, unworthy to touch him. Kunhang runs his hands over his perfect body, losing himself to the feeling of the man on top of him, all around him, drowning his senses.

"Fuck," he slurs, overwhelmed.

"I wanna ride you. You gonna finger me? Or you want me to?" Ten rushes out.

"I want to," Kunhang says quickly.

Ten presses the bottle of lube into his chest and he grabs it, fumbling with the cap for a minute before it pops open. He spills some out onto his fingers, struggling to focus on the task and not the way Ten is grinding against his inner thigh.

"Hurry up," Ten complains. Kunhang makes a face at him.

He reaches around Ten, running his thumb over his tailbone. Although he can't see what he's doing, he thinks he manages to coat Ten's entrance with the lube without getting it everywhere. The tip of his index finger catches on his rim and he presses it inside to the first knuckle, pausing to gauge the older's reaction.

"Well don't stop there," Ten huffs. Kunhang smiles sheepishly.

"Tell me how it feels," he says, kissing the center of his chest. He presses the remainder of his finger inside him, working even deeper before slipping it back out.

"It's good, do another,"

Kunhang fits the second finger in with only a little resistance. Ten clenches tightly around him, taking a moment to adjust to the intrusion. He's not sure how long it's been since Ten last bottomed. He's sure it's been over a month since he's been with WayV and his boyfriend is on the other side of the globe. But he doesn't really know.

It has occurred to him that Ten could be fucking other members. He's so damn beautiful that anyone would be a fool to turn him down. He's taken a particular interest to Yangyang these days, and sometimes Xuxi looks at him like he's the juiciest piece of meat he's ever seen. But Kunhang really doesn't want to imagine it. He can't stomach the thought of Ten with anyone else.

A wave of possessiveness pulses through him and he attaches his lips to Ten's shoulder, dragging his teeth up towards his throat. Kunhang slips a third finger in without any warning, his nail running along a small bump and the older man shudders and moans. He's not sure if the response is from pain or pleasure but knowing Ten, it's likely both.

He fucks his digits in slow, stroking the smooth, hot walls of Ten's pliant body. He's fingered Ten before, in a tiny shower in Beijing where the water never managed to get warm enough. Kunhang remembers Ten's hot mouth moving against his, arms locked around his waist, and lukewarm water cascading down around them, plastering his hair to his forehead in the most unflattering way. They were grinding, slow, and the beautiful sounds the older man made against his cheek as he prodded a finger into him, is a memory he will never forget.

So Kunhang has done this before, but never with the intention to fuck Ten, and that alone is a game changer. He suddenly feels shy and a little out of his element, as if Ten will be evaluating his performance. Kunhang can't help the fear that he won't be able to satisfy him, that whatever he has to offer is poor in comparison to what he is used to.

Kunhang spreads his fingers carefully, moves his lips to the sensitive spot behind Ten's ear. Ten's back arches, his long nails stabbing into Kunhang's stomach.

"It feels good, Baby," Ten whimpers, hips stuttering, clearly torn between grinding against his thigh or back onto his careful fingers.

"I need you,"

It's crazy how long Kunhang spent watching Ten perform on stage, rendered speechless by his talents, blinded by his indescribable beauty--teased by the idea of something so far out of reach. And now, he has this gorgeous man in his bed, writhing in his arms, desperate to be fucked. Kunhang can't believe his luck.

Ten doesn't say anything else before he straightens up, feeling one hand around the mattress for the lube. He finds it, then reaches the other around himself. He closes his hand around Kunhang's wrist, slowly tugging his fingers out of him. Before he can process what Ten is doing, he is positioning the open bottle above his erection and squeezing. The lube splatters messily on his dick and balls and he hisses.

"Shit, it's fucking cold," Kunhang complains, to which Ten giggles.

"Poor Baby," he tuts, curling his hand around the base. Ten gives him a few short strokes, pinching the length between his thumb and index finger. He doubles over and folds his perfect lips over the sensitive tip, digging his tongue into the slit. Kunhang whimpers, squeezes Ten's thigh.

"I'll warm it up for you," he says with a sly smile. Kunhang wants to laugh, or at least point out how terrible the line is, but then Ten rises to his knees and the words die in his throat.

Kunhang grips the back of Ten's neck, staring at the tiny sliver of space between their bodies as he angles the tip against his opening. The wet head slips back and forth along his cleft before catching on his rim. Ten's fingers get slick with lube as he presses Kunhang into himself slowly, guiding the red, swollen head past the tight muscle. Kunhang cups Ten's lower back, rubbing the tension underneath.

Ten licks into his mouth, hot and messy as he starts to sit down, taking him deeper. His warm, wet walls welcome Kunhang, inch by inch, like he was meant to be there, like his body was made for him, moulded perfectly around the shape of his cock. He can feel the sensation of being filled swelling in Ten's resolve until the older cracks and moans. He cups his jaw, kissing the sound right out of his mouth.

Kunhang bottoms out, his mind already whirring with how good it feels to be engulfed in Ten completely, to be so intimately connected with the man. It's a totally new feeling for him. He thinks about all the times Ten has been inside of him; the trust he had to instill in the older to let him do that. Although Kunhang is still technically on the bottom, he realizes this is a new layer of vulnerability Ten has allowed him to see, to experience with him.

He feels himself goes dizzy when he focuses on the feeling itself, his dick hot and hard and throbbing in anticipation. Then, everything catches up to him, the sheer incredibility of it all. He's _inside_ Ten.

" _Ten-ah,_ " Kunhang gasps. His hands find Ten's waist again, squeezing gently, more to keep himself grounded than to steady the older.

"Are you okay?" the older chuckles, still adjusting.

"No. I just —You're so beautiful, your body is perfect. You feel so good, you always feel good, and _fuck,_ I love you," he says, everything tumbling out of him at full force. He's straining every nerve in his body not to thrust up into his warmth.

Ten just smiles at him, running his hands up his chest, smearing lube over his sternum.

"I love you too," he eventually replies, just before lifting his weight onto his knees.

And then, it's just Ten - in all his mystified glory. He doesn't even look at Kunhang, just closes his eyes, tilts his head back, spine arched beautifully as he fucks himself down on his cock. The force of it sends Kunhang reeling, his blunt nails digging into Ten's sides, a soft sob tearing from his throat.

He's far from inexperienced, and sets a brutal pace from the jump: slow on the upstroke, quick on the down, then he undulates his hips in this hypnotic rhythm, trying to find the right angle. Kunhang is already drifting out of control, sweltering heat rippling in his lower belly.

Watching Ten only makes it worse; his brow furrowed in concentration, lips parted, one hand resting on Kunhang's chest while the other pinches his own nipples. He's seen Ten like this so many times now, but his focus never fails to amaze him. He looks so beautiful when he's determined, and even more so when he finally gets what he wants.

Kunhang is the impatient one, always has been, and pleasing Ten is his top priority. He winds one hand around the crown of Ten's dick so each time he rises up, he also fucks forward into his fist.

"Fuck, you're so good, such a good boy," Ten moans. Kunhang feels like he's hanging on the edge of an orgasm just at the sound of Ten's voice, thick with arousal, offering him praise. Especially after being bad all evening.

Ten grabs Kunhang's hand and curling it upward so it wraps around his entire length. The change in his demeanor is instant - he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, head falling forward, overwhelmed.

Kunhang fucks up into Ten's ministrations a few times, soon finding it difficult to control his contribution to the rhythm in their current position.

"Hold on," Kunhang says, nudging Ten's hip with his hand, urging him to stop. After building a pleasant rhythm, the older understandably glares at him.

"Get off my dick," he elaborates when Ten remains still.

Ten huffs, but eventually obeys. He leans forward until Kunhang's dick slips out of him, slapping wetly against his ass cheek. Kunhang bends his knees toward the ceiling, drawing his feet up to rest flat on the bed.

"Okay," he nods, curling his fingers around Ten's hip once more. Ten kisses him before scooting back into his previous position. His fingers are already around Kunhang's dick, lining him up. His eyelashes flutter, top row of teeth sinking into his bottom lip as Kunhang enters him again.

Ten takes him all the way, rising off only for a second before Kunhang grips his waist with both hands and drags him back onto his cock. He thrusts up at the same time, and while he's still relatively new to this position, and not really sure what he's supposed to do, he must be onto something because Ten's eyelids clench shut, his lips fall open and he moans, long and loud.

"Fuck— _fuck_ , right there, Baby just like that," he stammers, and it's probably the hottest thing he's ever heard in his life.

Kunhang leans up quickly, kissing Ten to quiet him. The older man curls one hand around the back of Kunhang's neck, fingers twisting up into his hair. Ten gladly sucks on his tongue as they find a new rhythm, Kunhang raising his hips every time he drops down.

It only takes a minute for them to settle into it, but soon Ten is riding him hard, his strong thighs propelling him up and down again and again. Pleasure ripples down Kunhang's spine every time he matches his thrusts and fucks up into Ten's tight heat. He focuses on how it feels, the steady push and pull, his snug, velvety walls, gripping him in all the right places. It feels so good, he could cry.

Ten's starting to work up a sweat, panting hard against his open mouth. And Kunhang does his part, pressing his fingers into Ten's back and rolling his hips against his ass. The improved angle has him sliding right up against Ten's sweet spot and the older man arches beautifully, tightening his grip in Kunhang's hair.

And if Kunhang thought Ten looked beautiful before, nothing compares to how he looks now — blush high on his cheeks, sweat misting on his hairline, stomach muscles flexing every time he grinds down, wispy bangs falling into his face no matter how many times he pushes them back and his cock, stiff, flushed red and bobbing between them. He's the eighth wonder of the world, an international treasure, a creature so fine, Kunhang would like to see him captured in paintings and sculptures, although nothing could compare to this image before him. Kunhang thinks it's something beautiful that Ten allows him to see him this way-- sharp around the edges, but vulnerable, wound tightly and in desperate need of release.

That, paired with the knowledge that _he_ made Ten look like that; that he made him feel so good he completely abandoned his carefully crafted demeanor, is enough to send him spiraling toward his climax.

The sounds Ten is making against him, the mattress protesting beneath them and the slapping of their skin as they gracelessly collide fills the room with lechery. The scene is so ungodly, swarming his senses until all he can think about is how fucking hot it is. Kunhang feels so hot he thinks he could melt between Ten's fingers, drip down the side of the bed and get lost in the hotel carpet fibers.

"'Close, Baby," Ten murmurs against him.

"Me too," Kunhang admits, as he closes his lips around an already purpling bruise he left earlier, just beneath Ten's jaw. He sucks on the spot and at the same time, drops a hand between their bodies. He squeezes his knuckles around Ten's engorged cock head, rubbing his thumb in teasing circles along the underside.

"I want to please you so bad, Ten, wanna make you cum–,"

Ten forces his mouth onto his, effectively cutting him off. He drags one hand down Kunhang's chest, scraping his index nail over his nipple.

"Don't you dare," the older growls, pulling his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. Kunhang smiles against him, loving the effect he has on the older man.

He holds Ten's gaze as he fits his first three fingers into his mouth. Kunhang then circles them back around Ten's dick, spreading his saliva down his shaft. He toys with the slippery head, thumbing over it until a warm bead of precome forms at the top.

Kunhang uses whatever strength remains to fuck up into Ten. Ten's getting tired, all finesse fizzling the closer he approaches his orgasm. Kunhang wishes he would just let go.

"Please," Kunhang begs, his entire body tense with the need to release. He won't come before Ten this time.

"I want it, Ge, _please_ cum for me,"

And it honestly only takes another few thrusts. Ten grips his wrist, holds him still as he ruts forward into his fist. Kunhang pries Ten's mouth open with his tongue, swallowing his desperate sobs as his orgasm spreads through his body.

Ten's eyes squeeze shut, his thighs shaking as he cums, spilling thick, hot ropes over Kunhang's fingers.

Ten clenches tightly around him and Kunhang cums almost immediately after him. The feeling ripples through his belly like a tidal wave, heat building and building behind his naval until it finally bursts. His entire body tenses up but he welcomes the feeling. He grabs Ten's thighs, holding the older man against him as he rolls his hips up once, twice—then he's pumping his own warm release into him.

Kunhang's orgasm eventually subsides. His thrusts slow to a stop, eyelids drifting shut against his cheeks. Ten is still breathing heavily, chest rising and falling quickly between them.

He buries his face in the older's neck, inhaling his sweet scent, much stronger now after the physical exertion. Ten's fingers easily slip into his hair, long nails lightly scratching his scalp. He circles the crown of his head, then soothes the pads of his fingers toward the nape of his neck. Kunhang hums, his whole body melting under the affection. He drags his own fingertips up and down Ten's spine and over his sides, reveling in the way his body shudders before relaxing.

When their chests are pressed together, sharing the same breaths, hearts beating so intensely, he wants to tell Ten that he loves him. Like that he _loves him_ , loves him. He wants Ten to know there's no one else in this world he'd rather be with, no one else he's even considered since they met. He wants to confess how many nights he spent in quiet pining, how many more years he'd be content to do the same. He wants to get on his knees and beg Ten to leave his lover, to choose him instead. Kunhang knows he doesn't have much to offer, that he's younger and less experienced and boring and naive, but he knows he would treat him well.

Ten strokes the back of Kunhang's head several times, trying to get his attention.

"Climb out of my ass, why don't you?" he says, though his words have no bite. Kunhang snorts against him.

"Don't act like you didn't love me being in your ass," he shoots back. Kunhang slowly tugs his softening cock out of him, then stretches his legs out on the mattress again.

Ten rolls off of him and onto his stomach, moaning in relief when his overheated skin makes contact with the cool sheets.

"I'm not. It was good," Ten says between breaths.

"Really?" Kunhang asks, as if Ten would lie.

"Yeah I mean, I came, didn't I? But I might have you ride me next time, Pillow Princess,"

"How dare you. After I got you off and everything," Kunhang mutters, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh you got _me_ off, did you? I don't see _you_ struggling to catch your breath," Ten laughs, reaching for the tissue box on the nightstand. He passes him a couple.

"It's not my fault you're old and can't keep up with me,"

Ten gawks at him. Kunhang laughs maniacally. He gets a little satisfaction from these kind of conversations with Ten. Although teasing his libido and calling him old will never make up for the emotional torture Ten unknowingly inflicts upon him every day.

Ten looks at him, and Kunhang looks back. The moment hangs between them.

And he would be lying if he said he didn't want to drag Ten close, cup his face and kiss him again, kiss him and kiss him until his lips are swollen and dark and his jaw aches and he's boneless with exhaustion and they pass out against each other like drunken teenagers.

He really doesn't know how much longer he can live like this. He knows it's unhealthy to pine, especially over someone he sees every day, one of his best friends.

And the thought crosses his mind as it does nearly every night:

_tell him_

Kunhang wishes he could.

It's a scenario Kunhang's played out in his head over and over, hoping to foresee a different end. He knows it's stupid to hope, to wish, to try.

But for some reason tonight he just can't curb the curiosity. If Ten likes him enough to sleep with him and hang out with him all the time, and cheat on his significant other with, could he perhaps like him enough to date him?

Before he can even seriously consider spilling his guts, Ten's phone is alarming on the nightstand, shattering the silence.

The older man huffs and rolls himself off the end of the bed, stumbling to his feet.

 _It's fate,_ Kunhang thinks, flipping onto his back. With the moment sufficiently ruined, he sits up, running a tired hand through his hair.

He's already started looking around their careless pile of clothes for his boxers when he hears Ten curse under his breath.

"What?" he frowns, pulling his shirt back on. Ten's features twist into something uncomfortable. The expression on his face, and the fact that he still hasn't answered makes him wonder if he should be too.

"...It's him," he finally says.

Kunhang's heart sinks instantly.

"Oh," he breathes, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ten pauses for a long minute, chewing his bottom lip. It's a Facetime call – Kunhang briefly wonders if he's going to answer it. He doesn't have much time left to decide.

"I don't... I really don't want to be an asshole, but can you like, step out for a bit?" Ten says, guilt personified. He's already throwing on a random article of clothing he found on the floor, trying to look a little less like he just fucked his unit member.

"Yeah sure. No problem," he lies. He quickly tugs his shorts back on, grabs his phone and room key and steps into his slides before leaving, pulling the door behind him.

He can't act like he isn't ... slightly annoyed as he shuffles across the hall, knocking sheepishly on Dejun and Yangyang's door.

But a part of him - the truly terrible, self loathing, and depressive part - is grateful. When Ten acts like this, it's the reminder he needs to push those intense feelings back down down down into the depths from which they came. It saves Kunhang a world of heartache. This is his cruel but necessary reminder that Ten doesn't _want_ him, so he doesn't need to know how he feels.

 _He can never know_.

Yangyang opens the door in a face mask that only shows his eyes and lips, yet he looks at Kunhang funny, like he's the one out of place. And he supposes he might be.

**Author's Note:**

> wow that was long as fuuuck
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/tenderybitch)


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